Nothing Gets Forgiven
by JohnnyHarder
Summary: Hello! Chapter Two is up, and I would appreciate any reviews/constructive criticism you can possibly throw at me! Also, if someone can please explain to me why it says RDR has 20 stories, when I only see like six, that would be awesome as well :
1. Big Stakes In Blackwater

Jack took another shot of whiskey, feeling the warm, burning sensation pass down through his body. He nodded his head to the bartender, and the glass filled up.

"It's your deal, mister," the man from the opposite side of the table growled, just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Jack gave an exasperated sigh, the whiskey feeling heavy on his mind. He downed another glass, being sure to breathe out the horrible after taste. "Right," he said, putting down the glass.

It soon became obvious that Jack was in no state to shuffle cards, much less deal them. He did his best, but the cards soon scattered clumsily and were coming up faces showing.

"Damnit," Jack cursed under his breath, his speech becoming slurred, the whiskey doing its work. "Let me try again." He tried to pass off an easy-going grin, hoping to lighten the mood. Instead, the growling man from across the table simply glared into Jack's drunken, stupid smile.

Jack dealt the cards correctly this time, looking down to a pair of Aces, trying to maintain a calm and neutral face. The man to his left checked, the growling man bet ten, the man to his right called, and finally Jack called. The flop came out a six of clubs, eight of hearts, and a Jack of diamonds.

_No worries, I'd still have high card if someone has a pair right now_, Jack thought, smiling on the inside. The man on his left bet twenty- _Twenty!_ Jack thought surprised, _a hefty bet to be laying down right after the flop, he must have something_. The Growling Man called, after a moments' hesitation, and the man on Jack's right folded. Jack called, using all of the self control he had learned to keep a calm face.

The turn came up an Ace of spades. _Yes, three of a kind! _Jack thought, his face again struggling to maintain its calm. The man on Jack's left again bet fifty-_Fifty! He must be bluffing! That's the only explanation._ Jack decided that he would apply pressure to the man, and as the Growler laid down fifty, Jack counted out a hundred in chips, pushing it into the pot.

"Raise," He declared, facing the man on his left, "to you, sir."

The man puffed his cheeks, letting air out, throwing his cards down on the table. "Fold," he said hopelessly.

Now it was just the Growling Man and Jack. "Fifty dollars to you, sir," Jack said, with just the faintest sneer of contempt. This slight push had done all that he had hoped it would do. Jack had a hunch that this man would not take kindly to the challenge of manhood Jack had laid down.

"Raise," the Man grunted. "All in," He pushed all of his into the pot. "Two hundert fifteen." He resumed his glare.

Jack looked down, only having one hundred and fifty chips left. "I'll call. One hundred and fifty." Pushing it in to the pot, barely noticing that a small crowd had gathered around the table.

The Man sneered in contempt. "You got something that's worth sixty five bucks?" Jack held the gaze, not daring to break eye contact, yet running all of the possible options in his head. I got my horse," Jack Marston nodded outside the window; to wear his father's yellow stallion was hitched up.

"My father rode clear through Mexico in that stallion," Jack proposed. "Fought with the rebels under Abraham Reyes against Colonel Allende. Stallion, fast one, too. My father shot down Dutch van der Linde off of the back of that horse. I'd say that's worth sixty five. Here," Jack laid down his father's old Schofield revolver. "Just in case it isn't."

The Growler itched his unshaved chin contemplating. "Alright, you little shit," He growled menacingly. "You're on. Let's see that river."

Jack burned one, and then turned over the river card, a Jack of Hearts. _Full House!_ Jack almost cheered. "Lets see 'em." Jack demanded. They both put their cards down at the same time, Jack beaming with pride.

"You cheatin' son of a bitch!" The Man hissed. "You lousy, cheatin, sonuvabitch!" He spat furiously.

Jack frowned, looking over at his cards, a four and a ten. "You had nothing." He said, frowning, contemplating what possible hand the man could've been hoping for. "Why on Earth did you pull all in?"

The Man continued spitting, cursing, and stomping his feet, haven risen from his chair. "Look, don't be angry because you can't play cards worth a damn." Jack taunted, gathering up his winnings.

The Man turned, eyes blazing and Jack knew where his mind was going before his hand did. He immediately went for the Schofield which he had returned to his holster.

_BAM_

The single bullet in the Man's forehead was still smoking, and his body hit the hard wood floor with a hard _thud_. Jack hadn't risen from his chair, the muzzle still smoking, he gave a slightly nonchalant puff of air to rid the smoke from the heating gun. Holstering the weapon, and collecting the money, he rose from his chair. Nodding to the barman, he tossed a shiny coin at the man.

"Sorry for the mess," he muttered, walking past the bartender's bewildered face; he took another seat at the far end of the bar, away from the crowd that had a look of shock on all of their faces.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate another drink," He spoke out loud to the bartender, who immediately scurried to find another bottle of whiskey.

He smelled her musky scent before he was aware of her soft footsteps.

"That one's on me, Hank," a female voice rang from nearby Jack's back.

"Nope, that one's on me, Hank." He turned to the voice. "Thanks anyway darlin'," His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw her.

Light brown hair, small hopeful brown eyes, and slightly pouting lips. Her body was slender, and lean, with full breasts and hips, a vision to behold. Her corset supported her breasts, and her stockings revealed her toned and conditioned legs.

"You sure I can't change your mind? I don't mean to be rude, but Charlie over there-" she gestured to the body on the floor,"- often caused trouble around here, She smiled almost seductively, but her eyes gave a kind of sincerity that could not be betrayed.

Jack finally gave in and shrugged, "If you say so, pull up some bar, ma'am," He turned to face the bartender, draining his glass of whiskey.

"Don't mind if I do," she sat down and ordered a glass of wine.

"So if you don't mind me asking about that pistol…?" She started.

"I wouldn't mind if you started with your name…." Jack interrupted abruptly. His voice had turned defensive upon her inquiry of his name, and she had noticed.

The woman gave a slight blush, hardly noticeable with the lack of makeup she had applied, though she hardly would've needed it.

"My name is Jenny. Jenny Callahan, and you are?" She offered politely.

"Jack Marston," He returned, taking another glass of whiskey.

She gave a pause as she saw him take that whiskey with ease. "If you wouldn't mind my asking where you learned to drink whiskey like that, Mr. Marston," She gave another polite smile.

Jack gave another chuckle, "I suppose it's an acquired taste, Jenny," He looked up and saw her look of disbelief and gave another soft chuckle. "I used to run with some of my father's old friends down south, as well as a particularly drunken Irishman."

Jenny gave an exhilarated laugh, "Now _that_ sounds like quite a story! I didn't know any one Irishman being drunk was so particular!"

Jack gave a confused look. "Well, I say he's _particularly_ drunk, because I never actually saw him sober," Jack gave another chuckle, smirking into the bottom of his whiskey glass.

"I'm sure that shall prove most troublesome when he eventually _does_ sober up," Jenny suggested, taking a sip of her wine, savoring the taste.

"Shot himself to death yesterday." Jack said, with another glass of whiskey.

"I'm sorry," Her excitement dying like a flame being blown out. She looked up with renewed confidence. "I always thought your father had a kind heart, and he helped me when I was being foolish."

Jack took an immediate interest, "How did you know my father?"

Jenny bit her lip, obviously nervous. "We were on a train from Blackwater to Armadillo, I was with a preacher and he was alone. I remember these old ladies from the East were jawing about how 'relieved they were that civilization had been brought to the West,'" She did an old lady voice when quoting them, and spoke in a voice that had recalled this event several times. "He later found me out in the desert, dying of thirst, and brought me back into town." She ended it with a smile.

"How long ago was this? And what were you doing out in the desert?" Jack now had his most full attention on Jenny, forgetting his whiskey entirely.

She gave a long sigh, "This was about three years ago," She looked down, as if what she was saying was difficult. "I was so _sure_ that Heaven was waiting for me in that desert, I was delirious. He saved me, and it was really by chance that he happened to be there at the time."

Jack gave a snort, "My dad," He said proudly. "You must've been about my age then, if I'm eighteen now, how old are you?"

Jenny gave a wink, "Twenty one come April, you young pup," Her voice had the faintest trace of the most beautiful country accent.

"And, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come to work at a saloon?" Jack said, gesturing to her attire.

She blushed again, "A girl's gotta work, Jack. And I wasn't about to sleep on the streets of Armadillo, not with those angry men out there."

"Hm." Jack said, smiling contentedly. "It's nice to run into someone who had been on the good side of my dad during that time. It makes me feel proud of him,"

"I remember that I was just so confused, unable to find the distinction between a loving act and a hateful one. And as a working girl, that distinction hasn't become any clearer," she said frowning.

Jack took another sip of whiskey, "It certainly is a complicated land we live in. Do a man wrong, he'll shoot you for it. Do a man right; he still might shoot you for it."

"But at least you know the difference between right and wrong." She said, nodding her head in a definite manner.

Jack smiled flirtatiously and held his glass towards her wine glass, "To the difference between right and wrong," he toasted.

She smiled, and bumped glasses with him.

"So what line of work do you find yourself in these days, Mr. Marston," She said, sipping her wine. "I'm sure the outlawing business must be stale,"

Jack sighed, "I find myself splitting my time, lending a hand to old Marshall Johnson, maintaining a ranch by my_self_ at Great Plains, etcetera etcetera…." He trailed off.

Jenny smiled. "Sounds like some of the most interesting parts would be in the 'etcetera etcetera' part."

Jack smiled, purposefully misleading. "Not exactly,"

"So you traveled all the way to Blackwater from the Great Plains just to play some poker?" Jenny chided. "You must be hurtin for cash,"

"No, actually," Jack said, getting up from his seat. "I'm here meeting up with a government agent,"

"Well now _that_ is interesting," Jenny said turning in her seat to face him. "Now what would a small time rancher want with an agent of our beloved government?" She said sarcastically.

Jack left some money on the table and reached for his last whiskey. "It's slightly personal, but this man will lead me to Edgar Ross," Jack murmured, facing Jenny and preparing for a rushed good-bye.

"And what's Edgar Ross done to you?" Jenny asked.

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Jack countered defensively.

Jenny gave another laugh and stood with Jack, "Well when such a dark, young, mysterious figure like yourself comes a-waltzing in my door, some questions come to mind," She blinked flirtingly.

"Well ma'am, this," he put his hat back on in a huff and finished his whiskey, "'_Edgar Ross_', orchestrated me and my mother being kidnapped so as to ascertain leverage from my father to do Ross's bidding against some old friends of my pa. Upon fulfilling his deal and securing his freedom, Ross gathered a posse and shot my father in his own barn, while me and my mother escaped." Jack gave the tale of his grand vendetta with a calm forcefulness, she _had_ asked after all.

Jenny gave a sharp intake of breath in surprise. "Well…." She started. "I suppose that a government agent _can_ be much more of a threat than an outlaw, in all that it represents that is, you know what I mean?"

"Yes ma'am, I agree. And believe me,"Jack's mind was far away for several long moments and then he declared to the open air, "I'm going to be the worst outlaw that those federal boys have ever seen. My face will be what they see before they close their eyes for sleep. " Jack said, heading for the door, his movement only slightly slurred by the liquor.

"Mr. Marston!" Jenny rushed to catch up. "Do you think, that is after you done kilt yourself a government agent; making yourself an outlaw and a fugitive, that maybe you could come by and visit me sometime?" Jenny said hopefully.

Jack simply tipped his hat, smiled and said, "If you can make it to MacFarlane's Ranch in Hennigean's Stead, ask for Bonnie and tell her I sent you. Stay there until I send word,"

**RED DEAD REDEMPTION**


	2. The Trouble With Eva

The sickly pale horse's hooves thundered throughout the canyon walls, giving the starry night sky a more ominous and mysterious quality. The rider, dressed in a finely tailored elegant suit, muttered soft encouragement to his steed as the horse neighed strenuously. Gunshots echoed and bullets zipped around the rider, some missing him by mere centimeters. Silently cursing, the rider gave his steed another kick, urging him to move faster.

"Come on, _come on_," Jack was beginning to panic. The buzz of the passing bullets getting closer and the gunshots beginning to get louder as they got closer until finally the canyon gave way to open pasture, full of tumbleweeds and sagebrush. He drew his Mauser Pistol, twisting in his saddle and steadied his aim. He focused, homing in on his targets forehead, compensating for the gallop of his horse and gently exhaled as he squeezed the trigger.

_BAM!_ The blast gave way as a single projectile carrying Jack's hopes for salvation into the skull of his mark. A small smile threatened to tug at his lips as his adversary's body was carried by the force of the bullet off of his horse. He gave a sigh of relief and continued to ride on, holstering his weapon. He turned the reigns to his fallen enemy's body, dismounting right next to the corpse.

Jack knelt next to the body, and inspected it for anything useful when he found the last thing he had ever wanted to see in the world.

The shiny silver star, polished to a sheen, glistened in the dark canyon as Jack gave an inwards groan. The Law had been chasing him, he had suspected it to be a common bandits, but he should have known that gunning down a former federal agent not half a mile away from his brother would have drawn plenty of attention, even in the dusty desert plain of Rio Del Toro. _This isn't good,_ Jack thought inwardly.

He needed a place to hide, a sanctuary to wait out the coming storm. Gunning down a lawman would only attract attention to himself, and he was bound to have a bounty on his head. His fears were immediately confirmed as more gunshots, more distant than the last, echoed from afar. Undoubtedly they were aiming for him, so Jack mounted his horse and forced into a sprint, trying to remember any nearby safe havens his father had talked about.

_Casa Magruda, it's the closest,_ Jack thought, confirming it with a quick glance at his map with one hand on the reins. Gunshot echoes brought him back to present, and he kicked his steed again. He chanced a quick look back, now three lawmen chased him instead of one and they were gaining ground fast.

_They'll run me down before I make it to Casa Magruda,_ Jack cursed to himself. Taking out his Henry Repeater, he pulled his horse to a stop and took careful aim.

"_Now son, don't forget that when you're shooting elk, patience is important." His father muttered softly from behind him. The soft green canopy of the forest offered shade to Jack's eyes, cutting out the glare from the sun. "You can't hunt anything if you're in a hurry, just take your time. Don't forget to breathe….." Jack took several deep breaths and the rifle barrel straightened out. "…..and now, _gently, _squeeze the trigger. _

_BLAM!_ The gunshot echoed through the land and the bullet zipped like a bumblebee straight through the center of the man's chest, knocking him off of his horse. Jack discharged the shell and took aim again.

"_Don't forget, Jack. We only kill what we need to survive, never hunt in excess. Mother Nature always finds out a way to even the score in the end. Try and remember that you can really mess up somebody's day with an accident, so don't let any stray bullets go into….."_

_BLAM! _Through the man's eyeball.

"…_..anything that you don't mean to put down. And remember that this rifle is yours. If you take this thing out…"_

Jack cocked the hammer back, taking steady aim again, his nerves steel and his hand steady.

"…_it means that you're putting down whatever is on the other side of it down for good."_

_BLAM!_ And the third man fell to the ground.

Jack holstered his rifle, and continued his journey. The ride was hard, and long, eventually bringing him to the brothel of Casa Magruda. The shanty looked unpleasant, but his father had claimed to own a room in the building. Hitching his horse to the post, Jack tried his best to look as inconspicuous as possible, thanking the night sky for the blanket of darkness that covered the world with sleep.

He walked into the room and immediately recognized it as his father's. An old wash bin next to the bed, and a familiar scent that comes after one has spent the entire day in the saddle. Jack hung his hat and began to undress, taking out his pistol and placing it on the end table making sure that it was loaded and chambered. He placed his hunting knife beneath his pillow, dousing the lamps and drawing the blankets to his chin and surrendered his body to the peace and serenity of sleep.

His dreams came in a sudden rush of memories. A series of distant gunshots, his mother saying they had to go back to the farm, his father's mangled body riddled with bullet wounds, his mother slowly losing the will to live, the feeling of the shovel in his hands as he dug yet another grave, the sneer on Edgar Ross's face as he spat insults to Jack, the burning rage Jack had felt, and the grim satisfaction as he unloaded his pistol into Ross's body.

Jack woke, the rooster crowing in declaration of a new day. He washed, and dressed in his fine suit, put on his gun holster and put his knife at its rightful location. He walked out the door into the warm sun, observing the hustle and bustle of people coming and going, on horses and carriages, the local working girls giving him cat-calls. The methodical clockwork of the small community interrupted by a piercing scream into the morning air, Jack immediately judged it to having come from the back of the building and raced towards it.

Near the bottom of the staircase, a man held a struggling woman by the throat, the man uttering threats in Spanish as Jack approached.

"_Si tu ere punta!" _The man growled as he gave the woman a harsh slap to the face, knocking her to the ground.

"Hey, amigo, give it a rest!" Jack intervened forcefully. The woman was a heap on the ground, giving several gasps for air. "Enough." Jack's voice was harsh and his stare was straight in the man's eye.

The man's accented voice was full of contempt. "Excuse me, gringo," he said, attempting to give a snide respectful tone.

Jack didn't pause. "Stop hittin' the girl." He ordered.

The man scoffed and swung a kick to the woman's stomach, launching her a few inches in the air. "There, you happy now?" He scoffed.

Jack shook his head mournfully, "You're low, brother." The woman gave more desperate gasps for air and struggled to get up.

The man shrugged. "You like her? You can have her." He offered nonchalantly."Eh, she's pretty clean, but pretty dirty, too," He gave a small, malicious grin. "She's yours for…." He gave pause for thought. "Two hundred American dollars,"

"Mario," The woman began crawling back to the man, "you're evil!" she cried.

"No, Eva," the man growled hatefully. "I'm just a cow herder who can no longer afford the cattle!" He motioned to kick her but stopped short.

He turned back to Jack. "You want a cow, cowboy?" He offered, motioning to Eva.

"Holy Mother," Eva cried, finally rising to her feet. "Save me from this man!"

Mario ignored her, keeping his eyes on Jack. "Come on," He whispered. "Two hundred dollars, man,"

Jack took out the necessary moneys, having looted Ross's body after he had shot him.

"Take the money, you bastard," Jack said venomously, shoving the cash into Mario's chest. Mario received it, counting the cash intensely. He suddenly grabbed Eva by the arm, shoving her towards Jack.

"She's all yours, okay." Mario sneered snidely. "enjoy her,"

"_Gracias, senor_. Thank you!" Eva cried to Jack.

Mario, walking past Eva, whispered, "Will you miss me, _mi amor_? What are you goin to do now?" He demanded, continuing on his way.

Eva turned to Jack, "I will go to Las Hermanas, the Sisters there, they will help me!"

As she ran away, Jack couldn't help but admit that she did look truly beautiful, and vowed to check on her in a couple of days time.

**A Couple of Days Later**

Jack had finally convinced himself that he heat had laid off and that it was time to leave Casa Magruda, after cleaning out the local players at the Poker table several times over. It was time to make good on his promise to catch up with Eva, the prostitute he head rescued before. After a day of hard riding, Jack finally found himself at Las Hermanas, the Catholic church. A safe haven to those who believed in any type of God in this unforgiving country. He walked through the big wooden doors, and Jack had an instant feeling of uncomfot. It was almost as if the Sisters of the church could smell the murder on him, with their suspicious glances and silent whispers all around him. He made his way deeper into the church, finally coming to a nun bowing before the statue of Christ on the cross praying.

The room, he had to admit, was beautiful in it's own way. The Cathedral was the only one he had seen in his life, and his earlier uncomfort was slowly melting away, replaced by a steadily growing feeling of warmth and peace. He had never felt such an overwhelming feeling of security in his life, a feeling of support and reverance, a feeling to which he would almost compare to being in a womb.

He approached the praying nun, reverently and respectfully drawing her attention. "Excuse me, Sister," He said, trying to remember his manners.

The nun turned, stopping her praying. "Yes, sir?" She replied, equally courteous as if she had never had any other way to talk to someone. "Can I help you?"

"I was looking for a girl by the name of Eva, I think," Instantly regretting that he had spent two hundred dollars buying a girl's freedom without officially getting her name. "I wanted to see if she was doing okay."

The nun rose, drawing herself to her full height, "Are you one of her..." The nun squirmed uncomfortably, "_special_ friends?"

"No," Jack corrected suddenly, not wanting the Sister to get the wrong idea. "I just helped her. She said she was coming in here."

"Oh," She said, her eyes recalling Eva, "she came and went. A man came for her. Turned out maybe he was her calling after all?" She finished somewhat questioningly.

Jack knew when a cause was lost, and had a gut feeling that Mario had been unsatisfied by his decision to sell her. "Okay, thank you, Sister," He turned to walk away.

"Oh!" Her voice came from behind. "I think they said they were going to El Sepulcro, but who knows?" She shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "She wasn't much of one for the truth."

A location changed everything, Jack knew he had to get to El Sepulcro as fast as he could, he couldn't let a monster like Mario still remain in possesion of a beautiful young woman like Eva and sleep well at night. He stormed out of the church, back on his horse, and rode towards El Sepulcro as fast as he could, kicking dust in his wake.

Something about that girl's face had reached into Jack's chest and wrenched at something in there. Something buried deep within that reminded him of his mother in a morbidly attractive way. Shaking his head of these thoughts, he kept his mind on the matter at hand, his horse galloping across the open prarie as if it's heels were on fire.

The cemetary's white headstones finally got closer and closer until Jack dismounted and searched the maze of graves. Finally, Jack came across Mario, with a beaten, bruised, and hog-tied Eva gasping for breath on the ground before him.

"Well, _this_ looks familiar," Jack said, approaching the pair. Two pairs of eyes instantly locked on him, one pair desperately hoping for salvation, the other viciously analyzing a threat. "Eva, I thought you were going to stay at Las Hermanas?"

"I was, _senor,_ but this pig, this _grande perro_ kidnapped me!" Eva cried desperately.

"And _you_!" Jack rounded on Mario, "I bought her freedom from you, fair and square!" Jack shouted angrily. "What happened to our deal?"

"No, no, no! A good whore never leaves, man!" Mario attempted to reason. "You left and now she's mine again!"

Jack's temper begain to rise, something about Mario calling Eva a whore stirred a monster of emotions and made his face turn to one of contorted rage.

"Do I get my money back now, or after I've killed you?" Jack growled dangerously.

Mario's look became threatened, as each man took a step back, Eva still on the gound in between them.

"Eva, just stay down, I'm taking you out of here," Jack growled, his eyes never leaving Mario.

"Over my dead body, _gringo_," Mario hissed, putting his hand over his revolver. The air was tense and the world seemed to stand still and the only sounds were of Eva's whimpering.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Jack snarled, drawing his gun with lightning-speed and the trigger back , unloading it into Mario's torso.

His body hit the ground dead and bleeding into the earth, the gunshots echoing throughout the land and the smoke from Jack's pistol whithering into his nostrils.

He slowly holstered the weapon and walked over to the corpse, stepping over a shocked Eva and rummaging through Mario's pockets, eventually finding his blood-stained two hundred dollars.

"Damn," he murmered. "Bullets shredded it to confetti," He threw the shreds of blood-stained money to the air. He went back to Eva, using his hunting knife to cut her bonds.

"Are you alright, did he break anything?" Jack demanded gruffly.

"No, _senor_," she whispered feebly. Jack tried not to, but couldn't help but notice that she had a gorgeous figure, dark and gorgeous skin perspiring in the sun. Her face had blood on it, a cut lip and dried blood coming from her forehead.

"If you'll permit me, ma'am," he offered, taking out a handkerchief and a canteen of water.

She nodded, clearing her hair from her face as Jack poured the water onto the cloth, tabbing it gently enough to not cause any pain but firmly enough to wash the blood away. They each caught each other staring into the other's eyes and Jack couldn't help but observe how breath taking those deep pools of brown were, her dark hair framing her face perfectly, and her full lips.

"_Senor, _I never learned your name." She spoke softly.

"Jack. Jack Marston," He replied. "Eva, right?"

She nodded her head, "_Si, me llamo esta Eva_," she smiled slyly, "I suppose that now that you own me I had better learn English better,"

Jack chuckled, "You've been doing pretty good so far, I wouldn't worry about it. Or about me owning you, you're a free woman, Eva," Jack smiled. "And now you don't have to worry about Mario any more,"

They hadn't yet realized that they were still in close proximity of each other, "Well, I don't suppose you go around, rescuing working girls from _puntos_ like him." She said with a chuckle.

"No, you're the first one so far, ma'am," Jack smiled in return.

"Well, I suppose if I ever get into trouble again, I'll know just who to talk to to help me again," Her face was getting closer, her eyes beginning to close and Jack felt his face grow warmer.

"If I'm in the neighborhood..." Jack's eyes closed and he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Her hand found the back of his head, pushing their kiss deeper as she slid her lips across his and sliding her tongue into his mouth.

They broke the kiss and leaned their heads against each other. "Now that's a promise," she murmered, smiling.

"Your English is good, but I think you're strong suit is with your French," he joked, they both laughed. "Come on, I'll take you back to Las Hermanas," He helped her to her feet, and then again onto the back of his saddle. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful the sunset was as they rode off towards Las Hermanas, wondering if he would ever be able to settle down.


End file.
